


Flight Delay

by glim



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Airports, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Common Cold, Community: cottoncandy_bingo, Established Relationship, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-28
Updated: 2012-12-28
Packaged: 2017-11-22 17:07:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,200
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/612190
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/glim/pseuds/glim
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>If he could, Arthur would get Merlin home right now to their London flat, take the longest, hottest shower with him, and even crawl into bed with him if it meant Merlin would get some rest and they could both sleep off their jet lag. Since he can't do any of that just yet, he'll settle for the second best plan. </em>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Flight Delay

**Author's Note:**

> Written to fill the 'hotel / motel / resort' square on my [Cotton Candy Bingo card](http://glim.dreamwidth.org/1589148.html). 
> 
> Thank you to kivrin for a quick beta read. ♥

"Here." Arthur hands Merlin a cup of tea and sits down next to him in the nearly empty waiting area. As the afternoon wears on and the weather worsens, the airport seems to get chillier and draftier. "Any more news about when we might get to leave?"

Merlin wraps his hands around the cup and shakes his head. "Maybe we should take the other flight."

Frowning, Arthur peers down at his own cup of horrible, cheap, weak tea. At least it's hot, he reminds himself, and watches Merlin snuffle at the steam from his own cup. "I don't know. The layover in New York is so long, and I don't want you travelling more than you need to. Not," he adds, "that sitting around here is doing you much good, either."

Merlin snuffles again. "Sorry..."

"Stop. You didn't meant to get ill. It's not your fault, all right?"

"I know. I just..."

"Hush," Arthur says, his voice lower and more gentle, and slips his arm around Merlin's shoulders.

And Merlin, who looks miserable, completely and utterly _miserable_ , slumps in against Arthur and holds his tea in close to his chest. He closes his eyes for a few seconds, too, and when he opens them, he looks even more bleary and ill. "I still think we should take the plane to New York, and try and get a hotel room for the night..."

"Are you sure?" Arthur leans in to brush his lips over Merlin's hair, then his forehead. He's running a temperature -- probably just a low-grade fever, but he definitely feels warmer than usual. "You're so congested... Your _chest_ ," he says, and can hear the worry in his own voice.

"I-- I know. But then we'll be at least a little closer to home." Merlin gives a little, restrained cough and a snuffle, and peers down at his tea. "I don't think I can stand being in the airport much longer," he admits.

"Right." Arthur puts aside his tea, careful to keep it far enough away from their bags so he doesn't kick it over and spill it, and starts flicking through screens on his iPhone. "It shouldn't be too difficult to find a hotel room... the airport hotel is probably full, but we can afford a room in a better hotel, anyway."

Head nestled in against Arthur's shoulder, Merlin turns to press a kiss to Arthur's jumper, then angles his head up to nuzzle quickly against Arthur's neck. "You even fuss efficiently."

"Of course I do. I did drag you halfway across the world to Chicago for a work conference with me, and couldn't even look after you while you were coming down with what's starting to sound like the worst cold you've ever managed to catch. Now the weather's hideous and you're ill and we can't get home fast enough --"

"Arthur..." Merlin nestled in closer again, with his tea and crumpled handkerchief and quiet, stuffy, hoarse voice. "It's not your fault, either."

"It's -- no, of course it's not, but..." Arthur turns away from his mobile to press his face into Merlin's hair, willing himself not to be self-conscious about the sudden, strong urge to be affectionate in public, and hugs Merlin tight around the shoulders. He hates this; he hates all of this, being away from home right after the holidays, being stuck in a chilly, drafty airport for an unknowable length of time, being stuck here with Merlin already ill enough to merit a day in bed when they're so far away from home. "But I'm giving you serious cold medicine before the flight, and you're calling your uncle to see if there's anything you ought to be doing to feel better before he can see you at the surgery."

"Warm fluids and decongestants and don't lose my inhaler," Merlin says, and Arthur knows that Merlin knows it by rote. "I have been ill before..."

"I know. Good lord, do I know that." Arthur hides his face in Merlin's hair once more, pushing back feelings of guilt and anxiety, and smiles when he feels Merlin slip a hand over his jumper to rest on his chest. "Hey... how are you feeling, really?"

Merlin shrugs. And coughs. And _coughs_ , first hugging himself closer to Arthur, then turning away to huddle around his cup of tea while the spasm passes. Once it does, even with his jumper and scarf on and with Arthur's coat over his shoulders, he looks chilled and shivery. Merlin's rubbing his chest when he turns back to Arthur and he shakes his head. "Um. Maybe not so great, but--" 

"Right. We're not staying here."

"-- just a cold, though," Merlin says. Or tries to say -- his voice is pretty shot after the coughing and he sounds shattered. 

"You're ill and exhausted and it's cold here."

"I -- well, yeah." Merlin sighs a bit and rests his head against Arthur's shoulder as Arthur goes back to flicking through webpages on his mobile. "But it's not bronchitis or anything. I can tell. Just my asthma that makes it sound a lot worse than it really is," he says after a few minutes. "And even that's not acting up so much." 

"You sound terrible. You look terrible. Come on, let's go." Arthur moves to tug Merlin up from his seat, but nudges him back down before he can collect himself. "No, wait. Finish your tea first."

"But --"

"Tea first. Then you can drink my cup on the drive."

"I -- wait. What?" Merlin's face scrunches up into a frown of confusion. It's adorable, though Arthur's pretty certain he's only ever told Merlin after he's had a few drinks or when he's half-asleep.

Now, Arthur reaches over and rubs the frown from between Merlin's eyebrows with the pad of his thumb. If he could, Arthur would get Merlin home right now to their London flat, take the longest, hottest shower with him, and even crawl into bed with him if it meant Merlin would get some rest and they could both sleep off their jet lag. Since he can't do any of that just yet, he'll settle for the second best plan. 

"We'll take the first direct flight to London that leaves tomorrow morning. I know you want to get home," he says when Merlin opens his mouth as if to protest and has to turn away and cough instead, "but another night in an absurdly overpriced hotel room has to be better than a few more hours in the drafty airport."

Merlin rubs at his nose with the handkerchief and gives Arthur a curious look. "How absurdly expensive?" 

"Enough that even I think it's extravagent?" Arthur says, and hugs Merlin in against his chest after they stand from their seats. "It'll be worth it, though."

The room is worth more than the money they pay for it, Arthur realizes, after a cab ride through the sleet and wind, a stop at the nearest chemist, and a shower that Merlin mostly coughs his way through. It's worth more money than he can imagine to have Merlin curled up against his side, warm and sleepy and pliant with cold and cough medicine, and to know that they'll be home safely by tomorrow night.


End file.
